About The Rain

11Apr

Days In The Blackberries Field

time of severe droughtthirsty ground longing for raineach drop is priceless*roses without thornsraindrops wet down the petalsbouquet in his hand*after the downpourraindrops slide down the windowleaving the traces*useless umbrellahanging on its broken wirelooks miserable*raindrops on her cheeksskillfully disguise the tearsno one noticing*happy gutters singmaking the right atmosphere new haiku revives***today’s rain entersthrough the skin into the bones~ a deadly coldness

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DREAMS

My dreams are a cruel joke.
They taunt me. Even in my dreams, I’m an idiot who knows he’s about to wake up to reality. If I could only avoid sleep. But I can’t. I try to tell myself what to dream. I try to dream that I am flying. Something free.
It never works.